


Arthur in the Dark

by dogmatix



Series: The Empty Prince [3]
Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Blood and Gore, GFY, M/M, did I mention the blood, no seriously, serial killer!Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-11
Updated: 2012-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-16 02:13:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmatix/pseuds/dogmatix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is on the run from Agravaine.  But with Merlin and a nice sharp dagger, the tables are about to turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set at the end of S4, some dialogue is taken or adapted from canon. Also I am not kidding about the blood and gore, Arthur really gets to go to town.

Sometimes being a monster makes it easier to be king – no messy sentiments to get in the way of practical decisions. Other times, it means that I miss out on a lot of subtle cues that humans take for granted. Right now, for instance, Camelot would have been much better off if I’d listened to Merlin from the start, because he’d been right after all. My uncle was a traitor.

And in league with Morgana, can’t forget that. I think my family is cursed, on top of everything else. How else to explain my dear, dead, mad father, my insane sorceress of a half-sister, my self-sacrificing and equally dead mother, and a traitorous uncle. And me, of course, a real monster masquerading as both a person and a king.

A king currently being chased through winding caves, far from Camelot, which made me feel all kinds of useless. Well, at least my sorcerer was outside taking care of most of dear uncle Agravaine’s forces. And speaking of Merlin…

“Hey, I’m back,” Merlin announced redundantly, huffing and grinning. Somehow though, the grin didn’t look like his normal carefree expression. In fact, it almost looked like my own first, poor attempts at aping humanity. There was no time to deal with anything except survival now though.

“Good, come on.”

Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before echoes chased us down the tunnels. “They’ve found us,” I said, trying not to sound too eager. They’d only still be following us if Agravaine had survived Merlin’s attack. “And where do you think you’re going?” I frowned at Merlin as he pushed back towards where I stood at the end of the line of people.

“I’m going back.”

“Not without me you’re not.” I wasn’t about to let Merlin take my kill if I could help it.

“I know these caves, I can create a diversion.”

“Good, then you won’t mind if I help.” And with that I started backtracking, leaving Merlin to follow or be left behind. Once I was sure we were out of earshot of our small band of refugees, I paused. “Don’t kill Agravaine if you can avoid it.”

Merlin looked at me, startled for a second before he realized. He nodded, not happily but steadfastly.

Finding Agravaine was child’s play for Merlin, and dispatching my uncle’s remaining forces was the work of a moment. Which left only my dear, traitorous uncle, pinned to the wall by Merlin’s magic.

My uncle still thinks he has a chance, is still trying to talk his way out his situation right up until I stuff a piece of balled up fabric in his mouth. His wrists and ankles are bound tightly, boots off and shirt slit open to reveal his pale, flabby torso. Now his eyes go wide and he starts to struggle, but I pin him down and a swift blow to the side of the head with the hilt of my dagger makes his movements go sluggish and uncoordinated.

“Merlin,” I spare a thought for my manservant, “make sure nobody can find me, then go join the others.”

“N-no, I’ll stay.”

I glance up at him.

“You might get lost, in the tunnels.”

It is a sensible thought, and I nod, returning my attention to my dear uncle. I savour the moment as my heart speeds up in anticipation. Lightly I trace the point of my dagger over one cheek, down a quivering throat, and along the center of my uncle’s chest. He stares at me, first in shock, then in fear. Like a frightened rabbit he freezes up, and inside me a liquid heat shivers up, a dark joy at having such deserving prey under my blade. My dagger brings up a line of warm red over his sternum, and my breath shudders slightly as I set to work.

First I play, teasing, avoiding where I know the muscles anchor and the deep rich rivers of life run true, until my dear uncle’s fear turns to terror, as I knew it would. Sadly the gag muffles his screams, and I don’t have as much time as I want - I can’t make this last more than a few hours. I determine to use that time well, however, and I’m about to stop teasing myself and get down to the glorious business of pleasure that will leave my uncle a red, wet, mindlessly yowling mess, when a choked sound between muffled screams distracts me.

Merlin. He’s sunk down onto the cold floor of the cave, hand covering his mouth. I feel dazed, and have to shake my head to concentrate, to ignore the seductive siren call of my uncle’s inviting veins. Merlin is distressed. He’s seen the result of my pleasure once or twice, and he’s been present for one or two quick mercy kills, but he’s never been present from the start, and to see me like this is new for him.

My prey’s screams have trailed off into a whimper. It’s hard to find the words, to pull the ragged shroud of pretend humanity over the bare-fanged and salivating monster. “You don’t,” I say thickly, and pause to clear my throat, “You don’t have to stay here.” I stand up, almost swaying, and Merlin scrambles up as well. I can see now that his mouth is tight, and tears track silently down his cheeks.

“S-sorry,” he stutters. “I. I didn’t mean to, uhm, to distract-“

“Merlin,” I interrupt. I reach out for him, stop when I notice that my hand is already tacky with red and crusted with burgundy. Monster. That moment, I think, is the closest I’ve ever come to feeling ashamed of myself, of what I do. Uncertain, I let my hand drop. “Go find the others. You shouldn’t have to see… this.” _You shouldn’t have to see me._

Merlin lurches forward and grabs my bloody hand, clutches it tight as he looks intently down at the floor. A few moments pass in silence, until Merlin coughs and takes a deep breath. “Thank you, but. I’ll stay here. If that’s okay with you.”

Maybe later I’ll be able to dissect Merlin’s actions, make sense of them. For now, all I can grasp is that Merlin seems determined to be here, for whatever insane reason.

He releases my hand and I step back. He gives me a weak, watery smile, and I nod, not quite sure what I’m agreeing with, or to.

It’s altogether too much effort to hold onto the mask of humanity when I catch sight of my squirming uncle though, and my true self, my monster self, stops paying attention to Merlin, and I sink down happily to take up the interrupted revels. I swipe my tongue over the bloody jut of my uncle’s collarbone, and he shudders in denial beneath me. His screams resume as I set to work, and for a time there is only pure, blissful red.


	2. Chapter 2

Rising from the exquisite red ocean, I feel refreshed, relaxed. My tension and anger have poured out through my blood-drenched blade, mixing with my uncle’s lifeblood as it slowly trickled out of him. He is dead, and will never threaten Camelot or me again. I lift my dagger one last time, and cut a fingerlength square of fine, blood-sogged fabric from his tunic, dark globs of congealed blood and flesh dripping from it. I slip it into a belt-pouch under my chainmail, dark joy curling lazily inside me at a job well done.

I look around, and see Merlin sitting back against the wall, just looking at me. My human disguise flits out of reach when I try to pull it back over me, and I can only be myself. I’m not worried, not yet, not with the wonderful blood still cooling on my skin, still wet and metallic. That calm and near-euphoria carry me as I leave my uncle for Merlin, crouch down in front of him. I can’t summon up a fake-smile for him, and so I only watch him as he trembles ever so slightly and wipes the last wetness from his eyes.

I wonder if I’m supposed to pretend remorse, or maybe I should reassure him somehow, only I have no idea what to say – I’ve never practiced this interaction because it’s never occurred before, and Merlin rarely follows the normal rules of behavior anyway.

He looks at me, meets my eyes. Perhaps I was waiting for him to run screaming; that would seem to be the appropriate response to a monster. Instead he reaches up and touches my chin, drawing back fingers brushed with tacky half-dried blood. There are still faded smears of red on his fingers and palm where he grabbed my hand earlier.

“You’re all ov-over blood,” Merlin says, voice wavering just slightly.

“Yes,” I agree after a few moments, when something seems called for. My gaze drops to his fingers, still held up like he doesn’t know what to do with them. I want to lick the blood off those long pale fingers.

“We should get you cleaned up,” Merlin pipes up after a while, just before I could allow myself to lean in and lick.

It’s true. I can’t go back to the others like this. Gwen might be upset, not that have much care for that snake-in-the-grass. I don’t think the smugglers would be upset, but they might grow suspicious, and that I could not afford. I sigh regretfully and look at the palm of my hand, still generously covered with congealing blood. I bring it up to my face and inhale the rich, metallic tang of it, stripe my tongue wetly over my palm to savour the glorious life-blood one last time.

“Alright,” I say wistfully, nodding reluctantly, “go ahead.”

Merlin whispers something in a deep, soft voice while his eyes flare gold, and he runs his hands over my cheeks. I can feel the tacky cling vanish where he touches, gently lifting the aftermath of my kill from me as if I’d spent an hour in a hot bath. My skin tingles in the wake of his magic. 

He strokes me all over, leaving only glinting mail and clean skin and cloth behind. It’s what I imagine a blessing or a benediction might feel like. A tangible expression of Merlin’s acceptance of the monster that is me.

He moves around me, nudges me to stand, cleans me thoroughly. We end up standing facing each other, and as always I am just a bit amused when I see that he's a hair taller than I am.

“Your eyes are different when you’re like this. When you’re not pretending.”

He’s not looking straight at me, eyes skirting around to my shoulder where he brushes an imaginary piece of dirt. “Does it scare you?” I ask, curious. He can kill me with a thought, but anyone could be forgiven for fearing a monster.

He shakes his head, looks at me. “Not really. I mean, you’re dangerous, but also… I don’t know. You’re like a thunderstorm. Or a falcon in a dive. Power and death.” He stops, grins that lopsided sheepish grin of his. “Even when you’re not hiding what you are, you’re still Arthur. And I’m not afraid of Arthur.”

One corner of my mouth quirks up, and I’m surprised to find myself smiling. I’ve made a lot of bad choices recently, and Morgana still holds my Camelot, but with a fresh kill cooling behind me and Merlin by my side, perhaps things aren’t all bad. I catch his hand and bring it to my lips, smelling the last stubborn flecks of blood-

“My marker!” I exclaim, eyes jerking open as my other hand flies to my belt-pouch where I’d stored the fabric from Agravaine.

“Arthur, Arthur it’s okay!” Merlin grins, fingers intertwined with mine. “I didn’t clean it. I put a barrier around it to protect it, but I didn’t clean it.”

Still there, it’s still there, safe. I relax, huffing out. I’m not sure how someone as good and whole as Merlin ended up with a monster like me, and I have absolutely no idea why he seems to like me. But I think I’m starting to like him back, alien as that feels. “Merlin, you are a marvel.”

His grin is blinding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say I prefer this version to canon, where Arthur is an _ass_ to Merlin at the end of the caves bit. *growls at Arthur*
> 
> I half wanted to delve into Arthur's feelings towards Gwen, but it didn't fit with the flow of the story, and events would have progressed pretty much as canon did with some changed dialogue, so it's not really a whole 'nother chapter. Only, Arthur would have known about Lancelot due to his monster!radar. Which still wouldn't have changed Gwen's actions. Sufficient to say that Gwen is only alive in this 'verse because of Merlin, twice over (afanc and Lancelot), because this Arthur actually would have wanted to kill Gwen for her 'betrayal.'
> 
> And yes Arthur is worried about his trophy (the bloody cloth), because he _is_ tweaked to be pretty much a serial killer here, and ritual and trophies are _important_.
> 
> ...I'm also kinda tempted to put in a third chapter here covering the rest of the episode, with how this Arthur and Merlin would have handled things with Excalibur and Morgana. *torn*


End file.
